Tag, You're Screwed
by gar-a-ash2
Summary: Sequel to 'Let's Play A Game'. I'll write a summary when I'm not so tired.


"Hunter!"

"Got 'im!"

David whirled around, firing a single rifle round through the skull of a leaping Hunter before turning back to blast at a common racing towards Steve, ignoring the crash of the body beside him. The common gave a strangled scream and fell, clutching uselessly at his neck in a reflexive action. A Spitter shrieked behind him, and he swore and turned, scrambling to move away from it, to avoid the acidic saliva the bitches spat. He saw the glow intensify in the throat, signaling the coming attack, and threw himself back, throwing his arm up to shield his face.

A crack sounded across the old school gymnasium, and the Spitter squealed, dissolving into a puddle of her own acid. Seeing it wouldn't reach him, David looked for his savior, grinning as soon as he saw the brunette.

"Thanks, Kate."

"If you were watching your own ass instead of Steve's, you would have noticed her", Kate replied stiffly, casually flinging her arm out to slice through a common's throat with her machete. David flinched at her tone.

"Are you still mad that I took the last Pepsi?"

"That was mine, you asshole!" she snarled, fire blazing in her green eyes. He kept a wary eye on her gun, knowing she was prone to forgetfulness when mad.

"I told you I was sorry, Kate! Look, next time we see a soda, I'll be sure you get it, alright?"

Her eye twitched, and David knew that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Next time we see a soda? David, we haven't seen a soda in MONTHS! What are the fucking odds there are any left? But no, you didn't even think about that, you just grabbed the last one I had been SAVING for something special, and you guzzled it down without a thought. You didn't even think of the person who had called dibs on it. I should-"

"Um, guys? Kinda have something going on right now", Logan called out tensely, staring at the two like they were from another planet. David mentally thanked him for distracting Kate, vowing to pay him back for it later.

Kate whirled to glare at him, gun following her motion, and David flinched when it flashed by him.

"What do you want?"

"Kate, you can scream at him later, we're kinda occupied right now, and we need all of us participating", a calm, level voice echoed across the room, and everyone turned to look at Liz. She was calmly blasting at a Smoker, each round hitting it until it finally exhaled a giant cloud of smoke and fell. Glancing around her, she looked briefly at Kate before turning her attention back to the battle. "By the way, there's a Charger coming."

Right on cue, the roar filled the room, and Kate spun on her heel at the charging Infected.

"Shut the FUCK up!" she snarled, raising her .50 magnums and firing into the Charger's face. While she was distracted, David took advantage of the convenient group of commons and charged into them, hacking them to pieces with his knife. As long as he didn't draw Kate's attention, she'd most likely forget about the entire thing, and he could avoid it. Then he could find a soda, and give it to her, and she'd finally leave him alone. That was his goal for the moment. Living long enough to find that stupid soda and give it to Kate.

A final defeated moan from the Charger, and Kate turned away from it and started blasting at more of the commons pouring in through the double doors, swearing up a storm. David made sure to avoid her gaze by ducking behind a tall Smoker as he cut its throat, whispering a thanks as it hid his body from view.

"Thanks for saving my ass buddy. Sorry for doing this, but if I don't, you'll do the same to me", he muttered as the body slid to the floor, holding his breath and ducking out of the cloud of smoke. Taking a step back, he glanced around the field, looking to see where he was needed most. Kate was handling her own quite well, and he planned on avoiding her for a while anyways. Logan and Liz were managing quite fine, one fending off a Hunter while the other watched their backs. Steve was starting to fall back under the onslaught of Infected, and David reloaded as he ran to help.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Hunter leap, and he felt the scream build up in his throat as he saw the claws extended to tear him to ribbons.

XXXXXXXXXX

The teen held her hand out in a stay signal, watching her quarry carefully. The deer continued grazing, completely oblivious to their presence, and she waited another heartbeat before taking another cautious step forward, readying her bow and knocking an arrow.

Her body was fit, lean, able to maintain the crouched walk she was preforming. Her legs showed no sign of struggle against the awkward position, balanced carefully, tanned and scarred skin showing the strong muscles underneath. Her hair gleamed red-gold, pulled back in a careless ponytail to keep out of her face. Her brown eyes had the faintest hint of gold in them, bright as she watched every move of her prey. She kept them moving, not allowing them to fix on any position, keeping her mind awake and aware. Her slim, calloused fingers held a sure grip on the bow, arms held loose but ready. Her entire posture showed familiarity, as if this was an action preformed many times before.

Her companion slunk beside her on all fours, clawed hands digging at the ground impatiently. A high-pitched, almost inaudible whine built up in his throat, and at a motion from the girl cut it, glaring at her resentfully. She turned to meet his yellow eyes, holding his gaze in a silent warning, and he bared his teeth and looked away, hissing silently. She turned back to the deer, and he copied her, shifting his strong legs underneath him, body tensed to pounce and tear. His ripped and stained hoodie hid his face from the sun, shielding his sensitive eyes from the harmful glare. His hair, matted and filthy, dropped in front of his face, and he huffed in irritation as he pushed it back. He needed to move.

Sensing his impatience, the girl focused hard on a spot just behind the deer's front leg, stood and drew the bow in the same motion the bow, then released the arrow.

The deer turned as soon as she moved, spinning to run, and the arrow caught it in the neck instead, wounding it but not dropping it. She frantically waved her hand at the Leaper beside her, and he screamed and exploded from their hiding place, strong legs throwing him onto the deer's back and dropping it under his weight.

There was a brief struggle as the girl ran down the embankment, but by the time she reached the bottom it was over, the Leaper releasing the animal's head, broken neck flopping uselessly as it dropped to the ground.

"Did you bite it?"

The Leaper turned at her voice, tilting his head as he processed her question and then shaking his head.

"Good boy."

He stepped out of her way as she approached the deer, fingers finding the neck to make sure it was dead.

"Ssssssaaaaammmmmm."

The teen turned her head at the mutilation of her name, looking at the creature that should have been her enemy.

"What?"

He growled and whined, staring at the carcass hungrily.

"Ask for it."

He growled in irritation, looking up at her, and she shook her head.

"You know it. You said it last week."

She could see the frustration as he struggled to comprehend what she said. She knew he knew the words. He was just having trouble trying to figure out which ones were needed and in what order to use them.

"Rrrrrraderrrrrr cannnnn aiiii?"

Sam shook her head and sighed.

"No, it's not water. Wrong word. And 'Can I' comes first."

He hissed in annoyance, shaking his head angrily as he stared at the carcass he couldn't touch until he figured out what words she wanted.

"I'll give you a hint: it starts with 'fff'."

The angry expression on his face relaxed for a brief moment as he finally understood what word to use, then clouded over again as he struggled to piece the words together.

"Gggggannnnnnn aiiiiii thhh-" he stopped and struggled to make the right sound past his sharpened teeth, "th-fff-foooduh haff?"

He looked up with a hopeful expression, and Sam sighed. Not exactly right, but close enough.

"It's 'Can I have the food'. Hold on, let me dress it and you can have the guts."

He bared his fangs in his equivalent of a smile, and she had to fight not to shudder as she bent to dress the carcass before her. She could never get used to that smile. It brought back too many hard memories.

She knew he didn't understand her. He was a Leaper, and he was Infected. He had no idea what the words he was using meant. He just knew that if he used certain ones at certain times, he could get stuff he wanted. Almost like teaching a parrot how to talk. They mimicked well, but the comprehension of the sounds wasn't there. But still, it was almost enough to cover that ache of loneliness that Sam had deep in her chest. It was almost enough.

Sighing, she paused her work for a moment, swiping her hand across her forehead, forgetting for that brief instant that her hands were bloody. Grimacing, she pulled her hand away, feeling the blood dry on her skin. Perfect. Shaking her head slightly, she continued slicing through the deer's stomach, opening it up and exposing its innards.

Tying off the bowels, she severed the organ and began pulling everything out, heaping it beside her, sorting through it as she did so. She made sure to keep the liver inside, since she could use it later, but the rest she gave freely to the Leaper, leaning away from him as he devoured the intestines. They had an agreement when it came to hunting: he found the animal, she stalked the animal, she tried to kill it, he covering for her when she couldn't, she gutted the animal, leaving him the guts, she brought the animal home and butchered it, and the rest of the meat was hers to dole out as she wished. Once that pattern had been established, they had stopped having the conflict over the kills like they used to have. It was really just a matter of compromising. And making sure the Leaper knew that she was to be obeyed, no matter what.

She remembered how they first began their interactions. A simple game, a deadly match of Tag, played every day over the span of months. He was always It, and she used Parkour to evade him, using that adrenaline to remind her that she was alive, because she had nothing else. Then the day it all went wrong, the day a Snatcher came from nowhere and caught her. Her life had been done right there, finished and completed. But the Leaper had saved her, for reasons she still could not comprehend today. Maybe because she fed him, maybe because she played with him every day, she couldn't figure it out. But she had lived that day.

Then she had brought him back to her home, the same shelter she had used to hide from him. It had been so cold that night, and she could hear him keening on the rooftop he slept on, so she opened the door and waited for him. It had taken almost an hour, but he finally came down and slunk in, keeping a wary eye on her and staying on his own side of the room. Neither had slept, not trusting the other, and in the dawn they played their game as always, and as always, she fed him at the end. It was like flipping a switch. Suddenly, the Leaper became almost like a dog, only so much more dangerous. She imagined it was what training a wolf or a tiger to be like. She had to constantly be dominant, couldn't show weakness because he'd take advantage of it. It took weeks to learn how to communicate, that if she used his growls and snarls, he understood her.

And bit by bit, she forgot how to be human.

It was simple things at first. Growling a greeting every morning, instead of speaking. The strange, breathless chuff that called attention and could be used for almost anything. A purring sound for praise. Then snarls when he did something wrong, a cuff over the head in discipline. Leveling her head and baring her teeth when he challenged her. Scuffling fights that had both snapping at each other's throats, snarling and growling, scratching and clawing. Crouching and walking on all fours when hunting something to feed the Leaper, so much easier to stalk that way, so much easier to avoid the noisy things that could give away their position. Soon she could move almost as fast as him on all fours, and could jump a good distance as well. More and more, she was regressing back into a primal state.

Then one day, while stalking a cow, she had passed a store that still had a radio playing, by some dumb luck. The words had frightened her, both the sudden noise and the stark, clear fact that she had trouble understanding them. She had destroyed the radio in her panic, called off the hunt, then ran back through the snow to her shelter, where she crawled into the shared bed and lay for the rest of the day, quiet and unmoving. The Leaper had followed her, whining with confusion, screeching with alarm when she didn't respond. Remembering how to work her throat into words again, she shouted, "Shut up!", voice scratchy and raw with disuse.

It had the effect, though. The sudden words had made the Leaper run off, and he didn't come back for almost three days. At dawn on the third morning he slunk back, head low, whimpering, and Sam remembered how to speak, how to be human. She refused to respond to him with the growls, and instead forced him to learn how to talk, or at least mimic her sounds. It was a long process, taking the last four months of the seven-month winter, but he knew how to ask for things, recognized certain words from her that meant she wanted something. It wasn't enough, but it was what she had.

She was alone.

Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she removed the last of the organs, the lungs, then picked up the small deer and heaved it over her shoulder, staggering under the weight. Whistling to get the Leaper's attention, she began the walk back to the shelter, where she would finish butchering the animal and store the meat in the freezer. She had long ago figured out how to run lines from the windmills around the area, and had electricity as long as there was a breeze. If there wasn't, she just kept the fridge and freezer shut until the power came back on. It was now the last week of April, the last of the winter snows melting from the earth, her nineteenth birthday a month back.

She whistled a Disney tune as she walked, hearing the Leaper crash through the brush to join her. At least she wasn't entirely alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Well, that was close, wasn't it?"

"Close is one word for it", David muttered, wiping the blood from his arms. With all the Infected now bleeding mounds on the floor, they could relax and clean up. The Hunter that had almost eviscerated David had joined them within instants of tackling him to the ground, courtesy of a magnum round from Steve. David had only received a few scratches for his lack of caution, and he was thankful it was nothing worse.

"What the hell had you so distracted you didn't notice it?"

"Avoiding Kate."

"Okay, I got it now."

"Where is she, by the way?"

"Looking for her knife. Guess it got stuck in one of 'em, and she lost it."

"That would explain why she's looking for it."

"Haha."

Tossing down the rag with an expression of disgust, David looked around.

"Anyone hurt?"

"Logan got bit, but it didn't break the skin. It should be faded in a few hours. Their teeth are getting weaker."

"Suppose that's what happens when you don't brush your teeth. You know, I never actually believed those commercials."

Steve chuckled.

"Neither did I. Your guitar still okay?"

"First thing I checked. Horribly out of tune now, but that tends to happen when you bash the case over a common's skull. My AWSM got a little dirty, though. I'm gonna need a tub of water in order to clean it out."

"Damn, that bad?"

"Drove the barrel through a common's skull. Stupid idea, looking back on it, but it was a split-decision thing."

"How many times do I have to tell you you're no good at those before you learn?"

David grinned at his companion, a lazy expression that used to make his girlfriend smile back no matter what.

"Hey, I saved your ass a couple times with some of those split-second things. Don't knock 'em."

"When you two are done flirting, mind coming over here and helping me look for my knife?" the irritated question floated across the air, and David turned around to look at Kate.

"Hey, hey, Steve's the gay one, not me. If you're gonna make gay jokes, make sure both parties are participating."

"I don't mind", Steve responded lightly, and David turned back in irritation to stare at the pleased expression.

"You would."

"I would what?" he answered innocently, though he couldn't hide the wicked expression in his eyes.

"Asshole."

Steve started laughing as David rose, kicking over a common's corpse and reaching down. Grabbing the knife handle, he yanked it out of the sternum, where it had been imbedded in the bone.

"Hey Kate", he called out, "I found your knife!"

XXXXXXXXX

"What do you think, tenderloin or neck roast?"

Sam turned to the Leaper, watching him raise his head and blink sleepily at her.

"Yeah, I thought so too. Neck roast it is."

Using the heavy cleaver, she broke through the vertebrae in the neck, not wanting to deal with the finer cutting at the moment. If kept outside, the meat would keep for another few days. It was too early for flies, and it still froze at night. She could save fully butchering for later.

Cutting out the rough shape for a roast, she pulled way the cut meat and rose to her feet, heading into the shelter through the door she had purposely left open. The Leaper watched her with hungry eyes, but knew better than to touch the meat. That had been a lesson she had been sure to reinforce.

Walking to her crockpot, she dropped the slab of meat in, before dumping in a can of carrots and potatoes and a package of beef broth, followed by a few cans full of water. Setting the heat low, she covered it and turned away. It would cook slowly for the next day, and when she uncovered it for tomorrow night, it would be delicious. The doe had been older, so the meat needed to be roasted slowly in order for it to taste good. She had never been a good cook, but there really wasn't anyone to complain about it, so she didn't worry.

Finished and clean, she checked the angle of the sun and decided it was a little after noon. Plenty of time to work on tilling the garden. It was still frozen solid under the topsoil, and the frosts wouldn't stop until late May, but she could get the ground worked bit by bit. She needed something to do to keep her occupied.

She walked out to the half-acre of land she had marked as a garden, already chewed by the plow and the grass cleared around it. She had had bad experiences working in a garden surrounded by trees and tall grass, and knew that it welcomed mosquitos. It was miserable trying to weed when you were being eaten alive.

Firing up the four-wheeler, she checked the tiller blades before driving onto the soft dirt, turning it on and driving slowly as the blades chewed through the earth. The Leaper jumped onto the metal frame on the back of the vehicle, startling her slightly, and he gripped the steel as he watched the rototiller, mesmerized. Unable to see past his bulk, Sam rolled her eyes and continued driving, feeling the back end sink in under his weight but not shooing him off. She'd let him do this today. He had done well during the hunt.

Making the first turn, she began mentally planning what she was going to plant. The dirt was soft enough she could do carrots and beets, both delicious, and potatoes would be good too. A row of tomatoes, three of beans, two of peas, four of corn. Zucchini and cucumbers, on opposite sides so they wouldn't cross-pollinate, and maybe a mound of pumpkins by the safe house. Almost useless, but she could make a pie for Thanksgiving and have jack-o-lanterns for Halloween. Unneeded gestures, but they would make her feel better. Once they started growing she'd have fresh vegetables, instead of her slowly-dwindling supply of canned foods, and she could read how to do canning to store the excess for winter. The Leaper wouldn't eat vegetables, she'd tried, so she'd have to see about capturing some of the cattle roaming wild and try to start breeding them. Maybe she'd milk them too. She'd missed milk.

Planning the next few years in her head, she turned a second time, the Leaper shrieking as a piece of dirt was flung onto his arm, and the sun slowly began descending in the sky.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So, where to now? The school was a bust, and I believe that was the last stronghold marked on our maps. Is there anywhere else?"

Logan leaned over Liz as she studied the map, seeing the mass of red x's and the few remaining blue circles. A he watched, Liz reached up and crossed another circle off the map, adding another x to the group. They had begun their journey in New Mexico, moving slowly northeast, looking for all the fabled havens. So far, they had found the havens, but they weren't safe anymore. All it took was one person who wasn't immune to catch it, and the infection could wipe out an entire station and fill it with Infected. Opening the doors to one of these places was like playing Russian Roulette. You never knew whether you were opening to a blank or a bullet. Unfortunately, most of them turned into bullets.

"I have one more in Maine, near the coast. That's at least four days of driving, if we manage to find the gas for it."

"We got enough food to make the trip? And ammo?"

"If we ration ourselves, then yes, we should have enough food. I don't know about the ammo, though. With today, we wiped out about a third of what we had left. If we don't find a safe house soon, we're gonna run out, and you know how much melee does against them."

"Shit to nothing, I know. Are there any houses on the maps?"

"They didn't build too many this far north. Guess they didn't have the time. But there's one in Albany, and two more between us and Maine. We could make it to Albany by tomorrow night, but it'll be a three-day drive between Albany and New Haven in New Hampshire."

"What about here?" Logan asked, tapping another green dot out of the way. It'd add another two hundred miles to the trip, but it wasn't too far off the path and there was a chance they could restock all their supplies there.

"You wanna risk the gas?"

"Can we afford not to? Even if it does turn out to be a bust, it'll be a place to sleep easy for the night. We could all sleep a full night through. God knows we need it."

Liz pursed her lips thoughtfully, then nodded.

"Guess we're gonna have to do it. We all need sleep. Alright, get everyone here so I can tell what the plan is. You know how David tends to get lost if not told where to go. I swear, that kid would lose his head if it wasn't attached."

XXXXXXXXXX

The sun setting, Sam began walking back to the safe house, the Leaper at her heels. She had finished butchering the deer and storing it in the freezer, and then she had gone for a run with the Leaper. It didn't contain the same thrill as it used to, knowing she wasn't going to be harmed, but it was a bonding thing with them. And it gave them something to do to waste time.

Her skin suddenly broke out in goosebumps, and her head snapped southwest, staring towards the setting sun. Something was out there. She wasn't sure what, but something was out there. And it was headed for her.

Beside her, the Leaper growled, and she looked down to see he was looking south too. His back was arched and his legs flexed, as if to attack a threat. He could sense it too.

Uneasy, she continued to the building, shutting the door and locking it behind her for the first time in months. Whatever it was, it would be here within the week.

XXXXXXXXXX

_**A/N: Well, here it is! The first chapter for my sequel to 'Let's Play A Game'. A lot of you have been looking forward to this, and I was going to wait until I had finished my other fic first before writing it, but….**_

_**I have such bad writer's block for that story it's unbelievable. It's a very crucial part I'm stuck on, and I can't figure out how to do it. I have six pages already typed, but I'm considering scrapping it all and starting the chapter over again. It's that bad.**_

_**So, here we go with this one! Be sure to tell me what you think, and tell me what you like. I do actually have a general idea where I'm going with this story, amazingly, so it should have a plot. Unlike a lot of things I write. But eh, oh well.**_

_**So, I'll leave off here, and I promise 'Survival of the Fittest' will be completed. It just might take a while. Between events happening at home and starting college in a few weeks, life's a bit complicated right now. Alright, see ya later!**_


End file.
